


Summer Swift

by jaskiersvalley (connorssock)



Series: Geraskier Week [5]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Seasonal Affective Disorder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-07
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:28:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23050978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/connorssock/pseuds/jaskiersvalley
Summary: Over the years, Geralt had assumed Jaskier didn’t travel with him during the winter because it was too cold and tough on a fragile human body. He couldn’t have been more wrong.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Geraskier Week [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1650898
Comments: 11
Kudos: 624





	Summer Swift

That first fateful meeting had been years ago but Geralt still remembered it. His Summer Swift had deemed him home for the warmer months, only leaving him as the cold set it. It was something Geralt had come to accept, cold, hard winters by himself. Such a life wasn’t fit for a fragile human.

“Where will you migrate to this winter, little hummingbird?” Geralt asked as he set the fire, an early chill had settled on the lands this year.

“I don’t know, I don’t think I’m welcome anywhere in particular this year and my coin is a bit thin to be able to put myself up somewhere.”

Weighing up the options, Geralt finally offered to be a companion for the colder months too, happy to pay towards rooms for cold nights and help with furs for Jaskier. It was quietly accepted with a warning that Jaskier might not be able to pay him back and that Geralt was not obligated to spend all his time with him. At that, Geralt only laughed a little and shook his head, reassuring Jaskier that he liked spending time with him, his happiness was infectious. For some strange reason, that only drew a bitter huff from Jaskier but it didn’t matter, Geralt was just happy he got to spend more time with his bard.

As the weeks went on, something changed. Watching Jaskier was like watching a fire die out, the embers blowing in the winds and trying to remember their former glory. He still played in taverns but a spark was missing. He sang, he smiled, he bowed and went through the motions of flirting. But Geralt could see how it all rang hollow, a poor mimicry of what Jaskier had been.

And Geralt didn’t understand. He tried to make it better, took Jaskier to better inns, bought him nicer furs, didn’t put any pressure on him to perform, he even stopped trying to cuddle him in case Geralt was the cause of his sadness. Maybe Jaskier only ever wanted a summer romance with him and now felt trapped. Pulling back from Jaskier hurt and it didn’t seem to help. If anything, it made him fall deeper into this fading disease of his. The smiles were empty, there were no new songs. In fact, Jaskier barely even touched his lute. Some days, he sat on the edge of the bed, lute in hand but after a restless plucking of one or two strings, nothing more came forth. It was a good day when he got half way through a song even if it had no soul.

Things got worse. Not even the finest foods Geralt could offer seemed to make the bard smile. And it was a worry. Especially when Geralt realised that he, as a Witcher, slept more than his human companion. He lost track of the amount of time Jaskier lay in bed, eyes open and staring when he should have been fast asleep.

“What ails you?” Geralt ended up asking in the middle of the winter. “Would you prefer to part ways?”

The fact Jaskier didn’t answer beyond a shrug was worrisome. Even worse was when he opened his mouth to actually speak. “It would probably be better for you. I’d understand.”

He probably would understand but Geralt didn’t. Especially not when a tear trickled down Jaskier’s temple where he was lying. His question about being allowed to approach was met with a silent nod and Geralt was padding across the room, sliding into bed like he had done so many times in the past. It took a little coaxing and moving Jaskier around until he could be held and then it was like a dam had broken. Human arms clutched at him and tears escaped along with apologies.

Over the course of the next couple of days, Geralt managed to tease the story out of Jaskier. Each winter, some curse seemed to fall on him where everything seemed pointless, nothing tasted good and it was like sunshine and warmth brought all his happiness. The winter robbed him of that. Left him a husk of who he used to be. So he made up for it in the warmer months, becoming larger than life in the hopes that some of it might be carried over into the winter. It never was. His winters were spent holed up in some room, either at a friend’s place or somewhere safe. Only, this year nobody had been willing to put up with him, nobody wanted him to haunt their halls with his emptiness.

Listening to it all only made Geralt hold him closer. It wasn’t easy. Some days he wanted to shake Jaskier and ask him what was so awful about winter when there were so many wonders it brought. Snow, a crisp chill to the air, beautiful sights, the wonder of a warm fireplace with hot chocolate to boot. But it didn’t matter. For whatever reason, Jaskier was blind to these simple joys. On the days Geralt wanted to rage, he simply went out, walked through the snow, tended to Roach and, by the time his annoyance had quietened, he felt bad. So he always returned with a small gift for Jaskier.

As early as winter had set in, it was just as quick to pass. Soon, the sun was brightening the mornings, snowdrops peered out of the ground. And, Geralt noted, it was like watching Jaskier wake up. Not a sudden spring back to his usual self, more like a steady, yawning stretch. Rather than sit on his bed, Jaskier could be cajoled to sit by the window and look out at the melting snow. His lute, which had been abandoned on the darkest nights of winter, found its way to his side again. The first time Jaskier laughed, it sounded like a blessing even though it was last heard so long ago, it might as well have been a myth from olden times.

By the time the weather warmed up and spring had announced its imminent arrival, Jaskier was smiling again. Not the bright, sunny smiles he had greeted Geralt with after a winter apart. No, in the previous years he wouldn’t have found Geralt just yet. But the echoes of it were there, growing stronger each day. When they set out on their travels again, there was a hint of a skip to Jaskier’s step that got stronger. As summer rolled around, Geralt was grateful to see that Jaskier was back to how he knew him, his migratory little bird. The pet names returned, only, this time, Geralt vowed that he would find something to make winters more bearable for his songbird. Thus, they started their chase of the summer across the continents, trying to always be one step ahead of winter and her curse.

**Author's Note:**

> Bumbling along on tumblr as @jaskiersvalley where prompts are open.


End file.
